Solomon Says
by pokeitlikejello
Summary: Huddy. "I made a mistake."


**Chapter:** Oneshot**  
Disclaimer:** All rights belong to Fox and David Shore.**  
Author's Note:** If I could explain this to you, I would. I was playing with beats.

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"I, um..."

She cleared her throat and shifted her weight, her blue eyes locked with his.

"What are you doing here?"

"Let me in?"

He shook his head slightly. She kept her ground.

"I made a mistake."

She waited for a response, but he didn't give her one.

"And that's not easy for me to admit. Because I thought I was right. And I'm sorry that I didn't... that I called security."

"You had every right to. But, you should have trusted me, Cuddy."

"You nearly killed him twice, House. Let me in."

He closed the door.

"I have this recurring dream," she raised her voice, making sure he could hear her through the door. "There's about a foot of snow on the ground and it's still snowing. With clumps of snowflakes so thick that I can't see. There's only the grey winter glow that keeps me moving. I'm barefoot. And I'm... I'm carrying your cane.

"And despite the fact that I have very little clothes on, I'm looking for you. I keep calling your name, but no one ever answers. I know I have to get to you. That something bad has happened and if I don't find you... well, that isn't an option.

"Eventually, I get tired and I just... lie down in the snow, still clutching onto your cane. Everything's white, but it doesn't feel cold. It feels safe. And then I wake up."

House was silent, his arm raised above his head and pressed against the door as he leaned on it. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip.

"Why did you tell me that?"

"Because I don't know what it means."

There was a sharp click and the door opened. Cuddy slipped in between the space he provided for her. House closed the door behind her.

"You think I have an answer?"

"No."

He took a step back, moving away from her.

"Do you want a drink?"

"No."

House stared at her.

"What do you want, Cuddy?"

"I feel bad."

"I can't fix that." He shook his head.

"I feel guilty," she clarified her term.

"I can't rid your guilt either," he told her, eyes on her, examining her.

"I wish you would try."

He shrugged. "I wish you would trust me."

"I would if you'd give me a reason to."

House sized her up. He straightened his backbone and she shifted uneasily beneath his stare.

"You don't just show up here in the middle of the night for no reason," he said. "Unless you want to get laid." He raised his eyebrows to her. "Do you?"

"No."

"Then, leave."

"House." She frowned, her words hard for her to speak. "I need some time."

"For what?"

"Let me stay awhile." There was a desperation in her eyes that made him uncomfortable. She took a step closer to him. "Please?"

"Why don't you call Wilson, Cuddy, because I really don't give a shit."

House stepped toward the door, preparing to open it for her, but she quickly stepped in his way.

"If I wanted to talk to Wilson, I would have showed up at his door," she bitterly told him.

He wasn't going to argue with that.

"If you're staying, you're having a drink. I don't drink alone when there's company."

Cuddy made her way over to the couch and sat down as he limped into the kitchen. She observed her surroundings, his apartment unfamiliar to her. She hardly frequented his place and when she did, she never usually made it past his front door.

Ice clanked against the side of the glass House had extended in her direction. Cuddy reached up and took the glass that contained a mixed drink she couldn't identify. She sipped it and knew it was alcoholic.

House limped to his piano and sat down on the bench, facing in her direction. House took a drink from his glass.

"Do you believe in God, Cuddy?"

"What?"

"Do you believe in God?"

"I know you don't."

"Do you?"

She gave a slight nod, as if ashamed to admit it to him.

"Do you know the story of King Solomon and the two women?" House asked. "They entered with one baby, each woman claiming to be its mother."

"Solomon said to cut the baby in half," Cuddy continued the story. "One of the women went along with it, thinking it was fair. The other woman said to give the baby to the first woman. Solomon knew the other woman was the mother because she would rather have the baby raised by another woman than to be killed."

"Right."

She stared at him. "What does that have to do with anything?"

He leaned forward on the bench. "What if it was the first woman's baby?"

"Why would she agree to have her child cut in half?"

"Maybe she wasn't as smart as the other woman." House shrugged, his eyes burning a hole into Cuddy. "Maybe she thought Solomon would kill her for suddenly ending the problem and wasting his time. Maybe she thought there was no other way to solve this."

"What does it mean, then?" Cuddy shifted under his intense stare.

"Things aren't always what they seem." House sat up straighter. "There isn't always one answer." He took a drink from his glass. "And coming close to killing a guy more than once may be what saves him."

"And it may be what kills him," Cuddy added, her eyes locked with his.

"We play Russian Roulette, Cuddy." House set his glass on the piano. "Every pull of the trigger is a risk that can end in death. But, there are five blank spots in the chamber and maybe we can solve the problem before that bullet comes out of the barrel."

Cuddy diverted her eyes from him and took another sip from her drink. She stood to her feet and set her glass on his coffee table.

"I should go," she announced.

She made her way around his couch and towards his front door. House stood and followed after her. Cuddy turned the knob and pulled back on his front door, but he quickly slammed it shut. She raised her head and looked over at him.

"When you're playing the game, you may not always lose, but one day, you're not going to win either."

"I know, House."

Cuddy went to open the door again and House placed his hand on her arm. She froze and her eyes were back on him.

"I know you know. But, knowing doesn't change how _you_ feel, Cuddy. And it never will."

He took a step back, letting her go. Cuddy pulled open the door and left his apartment, walking as fast as her legs would take her. She stepped from the building and into the cold night air.


End file.
